A Dark Past
by Ebony'Wingz
Summary: Hermione has a hidden past; a dark one; unknown by most, even her. So when her parents tell her she's adopted and a strange, bearded professor, a pink-haired woman and a raggedy man visit her on the exact same day, everything changes and the truth is revealed. Old friends are reunited and new ones are made. But then her life takes a turn for the worst when her father arrives. HG/SS
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I'm not writing this fanfiction to make any money out of it. I disclaim any familiar characters and/or any plots you read that are associated with Harry Potter. All rights go to the amazingly talented author of the books- JK Rowling. Any original plots/ story lines are mine, and any new characters that we may stumble across that aren't mentioned in the book or in the movie are most likely my OC's. This is a work of fiction. If, in any way, it resembles your life or someone's you know, it is purely coincidental.**

**Now, on with the story...**

* * *

Hermione Granger's life, or the most part of it, was relatively simple.

A normal, everyday muggle life with two loving, understanding parents and several If-You-Need-Me-I'll-Be-There-For-You friends surrounding her.

She had the best grades, the utmost love her parents could give her and nearly everything a young girl of ten (turning eleven) could want.

But it was once that sunny Wednesday morning came, where everything she had known and grew up to believe, changed drastically. For the best or worse? Well that depended what side you were on, and sometimes it wasn't always the best thing.

Sometimes, in Hermione's case, it was the worst thing imaginable.

* * *

Chapter 1: Adopted

Date: Wednesday, July 24th, 1991

Time: 08:30

She would've thought, knowing her parents as much as she did, she would've seen them as the type who would 'ditch' the whole cliché sort of thing. But they were 'dentists', and had an avid love for cliché sort of things. So it was no surprise that they handled the situation as they did.

Hermione found myself sitting on the couch one sunny, Wednesday afternoon, facing her parents across from her (who were currently silently arguing with each other with their eyes). They sat on wooden chairs brought from the dining room, placed directly in front of her.

After a while, the argument looked like it had been won, as Hermione's mum had a triumphant look about her and her dad sighed, leaning back on his chair and rubbing his eyes. He then stared at her, his face dead-serious without a trace of sarcasm or humour in his eyes. Not even a tell-tale twitch of his lip. Which happened often when he lied or was joking.

She stood, fed up with waiting. Then he said it: "Hermione, honey, you are adopted," followed by a: "I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner." That came from her mum.

You see what I mean by cliché?

Anyway, that's how it went. So yeah, as you can imagine, Hermione was pretty upset about the whole thing. And _may_ have acted irrationally. But can you blame her?

Then the lights started to blink rapidly and the air started to chill, slowly lowering to freezing. The winds picked up, whipping her untameable hair around her reddening face, and swirled around the room, lifting up weighty objects and flinging them around the place. She was too busy seeing red to care, let alone notice.

But, surprisingly, neither of them looked scared. In fact, they looked as calm and collected as ever, drawing stick-resembling objects out of their deep pockets as they too stood from their chairs. Jean Granger mutter something that sounded like 'He warned us about this', before pointing the thin stick at her adopted daughter's feet.

A second later, Hermione fell onto the floor, head first. Scrunching her eyes, she waited for the impact but-

No impact came.

Although, the blue flower carpet was now the only thing she could see. Her feet and arms were interlocked; binded by invisible ropes; so she didn't bother trying to struggle, it was fruitless.

A flash of silvery-white light could be seen if she bothered to strain her eyes and looked up. Maybe then, convincing her of the magical world wouldn't have been so hard. Instead, she kept her face down, cheeks still red and fuming.

The Grangers, after sending their own patronus to a certain headmaster, disapparated back to the Ministry of magic to meet up with their colleague, Arthur Weasley.

The tell-tale 'pop' indicated the headmaster's presence, and a second later, Hermione's ribs clicked painlessly, her back bent and her arms fell limp as she was 'untied' from the invisible bonds.

Her head buzzing slightly, she managed to get up and saw a man with a long, knotted, grey beard, peering down at her through his half-moon spectacles. She smiled back at him, awkwardly, wondering what the hell she was doing and where her parents were.

"Hermione," the man greeted politely.

She blinked. Did she introduce herself without knowing?

Memory loss- it happens.

He smiled again. "It's good to see you after all these years."

Oh. He was one of those. You know, that relative that you don't know about, but know who you are, and, suddenly, out of the bloom, walks into your life just to say 'hello'? We all have some of those, but Hermione was sure, after ten years, that _she_ didn't have any.

Guess she was wrong... again.

Braking eye contact with him, she noticed the shattered plates and various objects lying on the floor. Blushing, she tried to think of a believable explanation as to why they were even there in the first place. Shouldn't be hard to fool since he was old, with glasses and... wearing purple robes? Wait a minute, was that a matching, pointy hat?

Looking at him, he actually looked like a wizard from those fantasy- or was it history?- books, about a King's sidekick (?) Merlin. I think that was his name.

Yes, he had a beard and wore robes just like him, if the illustration was correct. Then again, it was an old children's book. Maybe he was one of those role-play people you see at those history sights people could visit. Or maybe he worked at a fancy dress store and was really clean shaved and wrinkle-free.

Still not noticing the loss of her parents, she asked, "Sorry, do I know you?", while trying to keep as calm as possible. Who the hell was this man?

"Well I'd be surprised if you even remembered." He chuckled. "I am Professor Albus Dumbledore."

"Look, I'm sure you-" unfortunately, Hermione was interrupted when there were two small 'pops' and a raggedy-dressed man accompanied by a pink haired woman crash and rolled into her living room, narrowly missing the broken plates.

"Merlin, Tonks!" the man shouted, groaning as he slowly came up from his crouched/ balled up position on the floor.

Did he just say _Merlin?_

"I am never letting you make a port-key _ever again." _

_Port-key?_

The pink haired woman- Tonks- huffed and swiftly got off the floor. She crossed her arms and childishly blew a raspberry at him. "Doubting my skills again- _Lupin-_ are we? You couldn't make a better one if you tried," she commented testily, craning her head towards the glass doors so she couldn't see him.

Hermione suppressed a giggle and decided that she liked this Tonks. She was funny. But, she noticed, their names were _original_ to say the least. Tonks sounded like some robot make. Then there was Lupin... as in _Lupus? _Wasn't that Latin for dog. Or was it wolf? She'd have to check that out sometime... And then there was Dumbledore. I won't even point out why that sounded unusual. Surely you could see it for yourself.

The young girl coughed, alerting the new guests. Their reactions were quite comical, really. Tonks- well she managed to trip over her own feet after seeing Hermione standing there and yelped in slight surprise. Lupin... Lupin had a (hidden) haunted, yet pained and guilty look in his eyes... until Tonks fell on top of him, making them blush as he chivalrously helped her up.

A blind man could see the affect they had on each other, but the lack of rings on their fingers, indicated neither of _them_ could see it. It was rather sad, Hermione thought to herself.

"Who are you?" she asked, even though she already had an idea.

Tonks spoke up first, her cheeks going from red to pink to match her hair. "I'm Tonks, and this is Remus Lupin." She pointed at Remus and he gave me a friendly wave.

She then focused on Professor Dumbledore, and the baffled face on Hermione's face. Before she could catch herself her eyes widened, as in _really_ widened to _massive proportions_ before shrinking back.

"You haven't told Hermione yet, have you? Oh _GOD,_ REMUS YOU IDIOT!- HE DIDN'T- SHE DOESN'T- CRAP," she trailed off, smacking her forehead with the palm of her hand with a resounding _slap. T_hey were meant to arrive_ after _she had been spoken to. "I blame you for the port-key, just so we're clear," she added.

* * *

_**AWWW, Remus. Tonk's should really just go easy on him, it was **_**her fault**_** anyway. Oh Well.**_

_**This is my first Harry Potter fanfic that isn't a one shot and I think it went quite well, but if you see anything that needs correcting, then please tell me. Also, tell me what you thought about it in a review as I'm hoping to update this quicker than I usually do (if you've read INWYTIW, you'll know what I mean). **_

_**Till Next time,**_

_**Ebony'Wingz x**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Another chapter already? I know! It's a miracle!**

**Disclaimer: I'm not writing this fanfiction to make any money out of it. I disclaim any familiar characters and/or any plots you read that are associated with Harry Potter. All rights go to the amazingly talented author of the books- JK Rowling. Any original plots/ story lines are mine, and any new characters that we may stumble across that aren't mentioned in the book or in the movie are most likely my OC's. This is a work of fiction. If, in any way, it resembles your life or someone's you know, it is purely coincidental.**

* * *

Chapter 2: Name Change

Date: Monday, September 3rd, 1973

Time: 06:00

_**Beep, beep, beep**_

_It will stop soon. _Soon...

_Why can't_ soon_ come faster enough?_

**_Beep, beep, beep_**

_If I just ignore it maybe it will stop ringing. _

**_Beep, bee-_**

_"MERLIN's BEARD!"_

Grunting, the young girl threw a feather-filled pillow at her wand clock alarm system (similar to a muggle alarm, except it had a few magical traits) and smiled triumphantly when the incessant beeping finally ceased. She fell onto her bed with a soft thump, hoping to get more sleep before her mother decided she would barge into her room and yell at her to get up.

When she does, it's worse than the alarm wand.

"Ursula-!"

"Yes mother. I'll be down in a second, _mother,"_ she interrupted, annoyed, into the pillow that she had taken the liberty of squashing onto her face the moment she heard the awful woman trudge up the stairs. She had always hated the name she had picked out for her.

Oh, and her.

Once she heard the door slam shut with only the grace of an annoyed mother could produce, Ursula jumped out of bed and came face to face with Minnie, her house elf. She greeted her with a soft smile, gracious her mother hadn't hit her for the mess she had made with the alarm (which was currently lying in millions of fractured pieces on the floor). Maybe she should've thought it though first.

"Miss Ursula doesn't need to worry," Minnie said after the elf had followed the direction her mistress was looking at. "Minnie will fix it. Minnie will make it ready for Hogwarts today," she promised, eagerly, with a huge smile on her face. It was hard to say no to the kind elf, so she nodded and started to pack her things. That was, until Minnie stopped her with a loud gasp.

Only slightly irritated she asked, "What now, Minnie?"

"Miss Ursula does not need to touch her things!" she protested. "Miss Ursula needs to change and let Minnie pack. Miss Ursula cannot let her mother see her do work or will be in trouble!" Truthfully, she was getting sick of being called 'Miss Ursula' or 'Ursula' entirely. It was such an old fashioned, _evil-sounding_ name.

No wonder she chose it.

An hour of eyebrow plucking, hair pulling, sharp prodding, and thirty minutes of make-up caking, found the young witch trying not to trip down the stairs whilst concentrating on a regular breathing pattern. The bloody corset was restricting her intake on oxygen and she was finding it a struggle _not_ to faint.

And the stockings! They were so tight she was pretty sure that her legs are just about numb enough to fall off! Honestly, you'd think that after hundreds of years, pure-blooded women would stop wearing those bloody things and replace it with bras!

Merlin, was it so hard for witches to move on from the 18th century fashion?

At least her mother allowed her to wear a modern looking skirt and not some frilly gown to match with the awful corset. She hoped the woman knew what she was putting her through, because I swear to Merl-

"Ah, Ursula, darling, there you are!" the she-devil purred.

Mouthing a silent muggle four letter curse, she plastered a smile onto her face and swivelled round with as much grace as she (the most clumsiest person on this earth) could muster. Her mother, Walburga Black, stood before her, arms widened as if to hug her only daughter (but she didn't approach her so she dropped them), and her eyes glistening like she was holding back proud tears.

Her father, Orion Black, stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders and smiling down at his daughter proudly. He was the only one who understood her, she thought. Him and her older brother Regulus (who was also standing behind their father along with Sirius and their half-exploding trunks). Sirius was just a pain in the arse, in her opinion.

Okay, maybe he wasn't _that_ bad when he wasn't teasing her about her lack of Black family features.

But he was right, she hated to admit.

Besides her dark eyes and aristocratic face, that was as far as my Black genes went. Ursula's nose was small, not pointed like her mother and father's. Her eyes were almond shaped and my hair was wavy and bushy (unlike her dear cousin Bellatrix's whose was curly and frizzy). Sometimes she thought she wasn't a Black.

Now _that_ was a thought.

Their goodbye was an awkward affair as her father had left them to their mother, who both Sirius and she hated (which in all honesty was about the only thing that they both shared the same feelings on), claiming he had some 'official business' he had to immediately attend to at his office.

Her respect for her father lowered in a matter of seconds.

/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\

Minnie dropped the siblings off at the train station a few minutes later, where Sirius had made a run for it, heading for his friends, and Regulus helped his sister get onto platform 9 and 3/4.

See? Regulus, despite his faults, was so much nicer than Sirius. Well, that's what she thought. But apparently, in 'Pure-blood society', a woman's opinion was overruled by men. It's sexist, really.

"Just aim and run," he said encouragingly. She gave him a doubtful look and saw him put his thumbs up. She nodded, bent over and ran through the barrier, praying no muggles saw her exit/entrance.

She felt like she had walked through a wall of jelly. A loud whistle was heard and huge puffs of smoke engulfed the platform. A yell of "Ten minutes!" reached Ursula's ears and she was pushed forward by a warm hand on her back.

"Regulus?" she asked. "What's-" she stopped, mid-sentence, as the smoke cleared and the red steam-engine became fully visible.

Regulus wasn't kidding when he said it was beautiful.

But he didn't add any more details as Sirius had hit him round the head and called him a girl, the git.

Most of the students were on board the train and all of the adults had gathered round the edge of the platform to see if they could catch a glimpse of their child(ren) before they left for the term.

No pure-blooded parents were to be seen (they had 'better things to do'), except the Potters. They were a nice family consisting of a beautiful, warm-hearted mother, a joyous father and just one child- James Potter, qualified prankster, Gryffindor seeker, and full-time git.

He was also Sirius's best friend, so Ursula made a note not to approach him.

Regulus helped her to put her trunk away, wished his sister good luck and left to find his own friends. After five minutes of searching, she found an empty compartment at the very end of the train and sat down. Sighing, she shut her eyes tightly, trying to control her stomach.

She was never good with long muggle transportation. Travel Sickness is what they (muggles) call it, according to the text book she had read up on in the Black library.

_This was going to be a lon-_

The compartment door slid open and a female voice reached her ears. "Oh, hello there." Her eyes snapped open and saw a pretty girl with vivid red hair that reached her waist, carrying an insane amount of books.

Helping her bring her books down onto the empty seat, they introduced each other. "I'm Lily Evans." She was smiling down at the young Black, holding out her free hand for her to shake.

"The name's... err..."

"Ursula?" Another person called, making her internally groan. Funny, his voice sounded familiar.

"Severus?" she asked.

It had to be him, hadn't it? He was the only one whose voice would match.

Lily sat down gracefully, next to her pile of books, and behind her Severus Snape stood, grin-bearing, head high and still wearing those horrible black clothes. Things never change with that boy, I swear...

"I see you've met each other," Lily commented, once Severus had sat down next to her. Her tone wasn't unpleasant, just curious.

Ursula told her when they had met (on a Tuesday, when Regulus had brought him round for a week during the summer time). And despite his lack of 'pure-blood', both her parents took a liking to him and let him stay. It was wholly unexpected to say the least. Sirius and she even shared the same look of open-mouthed shock his whole stay.

/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\

"And you didn't know you were a witch?"

"Nope! You can imagine the shocked faces on my parents' faces when I gave them the letter. They thought it was a prank!" Lily reminisced, laughing lightly. Ursula laughed along with her.

"So this is your first year?" she asked, grinning when she nodded excitedly. "Word of warning, if you get into Gryffindor, you stay at least ten feet away from the Marauders. Nasty bunch, they are- James Potter especially."

"I know. My brother is in it. I can't stand Sirius," she said.

Lily cocked her head to the side, examining the girl in front of her. "You don't look like your brothers, no offence, Ursula."

She smiled broadly. "I'll take that as a compliment. Come on," she said, looking out the window. "We better get changed."

"And it's not _Ursula,"_ she added, once they had changed into their respected uniforms. "That's what my parents and those pure-blooded, supremacy-loving, _gits_ all call me. And besides, it may be a Black name, but I find it so ugly I'm disowning it," she nodded, crossing her arms defiantly.

"So what shall we call you?" Severus enquired.

Ursula thought for a second before answering, confidently. "Hermione. Hermione Violetta Black," she said, holding out her hand for her new friend to shake. "And it's a pleasure to meet you, Lily."

* * *

Now I'm pretty sure this has probably confused the hell outta all of you, but if you could just scroll back up and read the date of it and you'll find that it, in fact, doesn't leave off from where chapter one finished. Nope, you'll have to wait for chapter three for that ;). Yes, it's one of those stories that jumps from one time to the other telling two separate stories that come together to explain the whole thing at the end. Seriously, if you take a chance on this fic, the future chapters will make so much more sense to you.

I'm not so confident about this chapter as I was about the first, I don't know why. If you have any constructive criticism, that's welcomed, just review and I'll reply and take your advice.

Anyway, I'd just like to dedicate this to my first reviewer: Proud to be a Gryffindor. You Rock! Go check out her stories they are amazing!

And I would also like to say that you to those who favourite-d and followed this fic: Blackraven4400, HazelEyedShadowhunter, Proud To Be A Gryffindor, RayningRoses, Rude's Mom, Sirina Blackwolf, Sweetest-Time, ncass1990, samantha . wheeler. 507.

You guys are the best!

-Ebony'Wingz x


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I'm not writing this fanfiction to make any money out of it. I disclaim any familiar characters and/or any plots you read that are associated with Harry Potter. All rights go to the amazingly talented author of the books- JK Rowling. Any original plots/ story lines are mine, and any new characters that we may stumble across that aren't mentioned in the book or in the movie are most likely my OC's. This is a work of fiction. If, in any way, it resembles your life or someone's you know, it is purely coincidental. I don't own Peter Pan either, but you probably already know that. **

* * *

Chapter 3: Wait, my father is _who?_

Date: Wednesday, July 24th, 1991

Time: 13:50

Tonks had finally calmed down (side effects of a badly made port-key was Remus Lupin's excuse) and Dumbledore had just finished explaining to Hermione what she was ("You're a Witch, child.") and where she was to study ("Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry is honoured to accept you as a student", _"WHAT?!"). _However, she was still trying to get her head around the science-defying concept of magic.

Left in the care of Tonks, she just about managed to do so, without the formalities and the 'kid-talk' she noticed anyone over her age of ten would use to talk to her. Dumbledore and Remus were no exception to this rule, so having Tonks to talk to her was refreshing.

Her foot tapped at a steady pace to an unknown beat. It was some sort of habit of hers that she could never get rid of, ever since she could remember. She found that it would always occur when she was especially nervous or agitated. Sometimes even at the most random times.

"Diagon Alley?" Hermione couldn't hide the uncertainty in her voice.

Tonks, on the other hand, was grinning like a Cheshire cat, jumping on the spot, unable to control her excitement. Tonks, despite her lack of being able to tell a white lie, could be very convincing when she wanted to be.

Apparently, if she was to go to Hogwarts, she had to be fully equipped with the school's uniform, a wand, a cauldron, wizarding text books, parchment and ink (Tonks and her had a long debate on whether or not she should just use a pen and paper. _Somehow,_ she won and now Hermione was in need of parchment), and a pet- but that was optional- and therefore, a trip to Diagon Alley was to be made.

The bubblegum haired witch couldn't have looked more ecstatic.

"Tonks, are you sure about this? I mean, I'm not- I haven't been-"

"Oh, Hermione stop _worrying!_" The older witch said. "Look, you won't be the only one who doesn't know what they're doing," she promised. "And besides, " she leaned closer in a secretive sort of manner, Hermione doing the same thing. "Between me and you, Remus has just been _dying_ to go to Flourish and Blotts to subscribe for this muggle magazine with these muggle wom-"

A loud cough came from behind the gossiping duo and a blushing Remus stood at the door. Hermione held back oncoming giggles.

"Ladies, as much as I would love for you to _not_ finish this conversation, Dumbledore has requested to talk to Miss Granger. _Alone,"_ he added, seeing Tonks follow behind her.

'I'll tell you later', Tonks mouthed, cheekily winking at an even redder Remus.

Hermione couldn't wait.

/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\

Dumbledore was standing by the window, an owl on his arm, when she entered. It flew away, flapping its wings loudly, and he turned to Hermione with a kind smile. "Sit, Miss Granger, sit." he gestured to the wooden stools. She did as she was told, seeing as there was no point of arguing. He had magic after all.

"Now, I presumed that you've found the name you're going with?" He asked, joining Hermione at the table.

Hermione looked openly confused. Name? Was she meant to take on a new 'magic-sounding' name now that she was a witch?

But Dumbledore merely chuckled at her expression. "My, my, you haven't been told yet, have you?" she shook my head. He exhaled aloud and clapped his hands making her jump in her seat slightly. "Hermione, as you know, you are adopted- Mr and Mrs Granger told you this before my arrival earlier today."

"Yes, sir, but do you mind me asking, where are they?"

"They were summoned at the Ministry to help Mr Weasley in their department."

_Just nod and smile-_ it's a rule that she's followed since forever. If you don't know what the hell is going on... _Nod. And. Smile_.

"They're at Gringotts now to register you for vault seven hundred and eleven."

"Why so specific?"

"It's your family's vault. Since you are the only Black heir now _available,_ the vault belongs solely to you, and you alone."

"Black hair? I'm sorry headmaster, I'm confused." She was pretty sure her hair was brown...

His loud chuckle brought Hermione back to her senses. "Ah, my child, they didn't tell you of your parentage?" At the shake of her head, he continued, but his eyes suddenly lost their twinkle and his face became sullen and serious.

Well, talk about mood swings.

"You must promise not to speak a word of this to anyone- not even Tonks, who, if I'm correct in thinking this, has grown very attached it you. She's an amazing young Auror, you're lucky to have her as a friend, Miss Granger." His light tone was gone far too quickly for Hermione's liking and he returned to the matter at hand.

"But I'm afraid no one will take it too lightly if they hear of what I am to tell you now. If word does go about; rumours spread quick; I hope you find a way to make sure they stay as that- _rumours._ You must ensure that no one knows. Not until the time is right for it to be told."

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore. You have my word I will not tell anyone about this," she promised.

He stared into her eyes, probably trying to figure out if she was lying. Finding nothing but the truth, his eyes lit back up and his features were graced with a small smile. "Very well." He twirled his hand (his wand hand) in the air and muttered incantations (something about silence. A silencing charm maybe?), before setting down his wand next to him.

"Your mother was a pure-blood. A very stern, respected pure-blood form one of the purest families in Britain. She had (unknown by most) fallen for one of the most... difficult men of her time," the old professor started.

Intrigued, Hermione asked, "How so?"

"You see, Miss Granger, we are living in a world of denied ignorance. They won't believe you if you speak of his return, nor will they appreciate you bringing it up. His name is spoken only by few and is feared by the rest."

"Voldemort," she whispered, colour draining from her face. She remembered the conversation she had with Tonks about a boy who was going to be in her year and how he defeated the Dark Lord.

She also spoke of her distant cousin, one Ronald Weasley. He was also to be in her year, but she warned her not to befriend him if it was possible. Something about his eating habits, she said. Whatever _that_ meant.

Going with what Tonks had told her, Voldemort wasn't _capable_ of conveying emotions, let alone love. He wasn't _human._ He just wasn't.

"Walburga Black- your mother- fell in love, not with Voldemort, but with Tom Riddle. You could say he was Voldemort's 'human' self, before the war."

He had a human self? Hermione found that hard to believe. She may have snorted at the thought of him acting like a normal teenage boy.

"And I'm to believe that I'm their daughter? Hermione _Riddle?" _she finished in disgust.

Dumbledore spared her a small smile but she noticed it didn't reach his eyes. "You would've been hexed if that was so. No, you are his daughter, but your name is most definitely not Riddle- nor will it ever be unless you wish for it."

Hermione let out a loud breath of air she didn't know she was holding back. "So what is my name? It cant be Granger, obviously, but if it's not Riddle, then it has to be something else. Black?"

"You've caught on quick. Yes, your surname is Black, although your first name, not so much."

She raised an inquisitive brow. "Meaning?"

"Your name is Ursula Violetta _Hermione_ Black." Her face contorted at the name, causing Dumbledore to chuckle. "You never did like that name. I remember Minerva telling me you wanted it changed before the sorting. She didn't, of course, but you were always one to hold a grudge. Well, until she got you out of detention that one year."

Hermione turned a shade of pink before remembering what he said. "Sorry, sir, but sorting?"

"Ah, yes. See, Hermione, this is where your tale gets complicated. You aren't ten- older, actually. Much... older."

"And do you mind telling me how much?"

Dumbledore's sheepish grin did nothing to deter her oncoming anger.

/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\

Hermione's screech of 'SEVENTEEN YEARS?!', somehow, penetrated through the silencing charms and reached the living room, where a tense game of muggle chess was being played.

"Ah, he's told her then," Remus commented, moving his pawn forward two spaces, scratching his stubble. He needed to shave, and soon, before he rivalled Hagrid's.

Tonks, however, was trying to get her head round the rules and completely missed Remus' remark. "And I can move the queen anywhere?" she asked, yet again.

"Yes...?"

She grinned, took hold of her queen and plopped it directly on Remus' king, ceremoniously flicking it off the board.

"I win!"

/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\

"Miss Granger, I'm sure you're shocked right now but-" Dumbledore attempted to calm her down, but with no prevail. She was simply far to gone.

"So I'm twenty nine? Oh god... _and_ I'm apparently dead to the rest of the world. Well isn't that just peachy..."

"Miss Granger-"

"How am I looking like a ten year old exactly? I mean, magic has to be involved, clearly, but-"

"Miss Granger!"

"A dark spell- I'm sure _father_ knows many of those," she spat angrily.

Seeing as there was no other option, Dumbledore raised his wand and charmed her mouth shut. He couldn't help but grin at the improvement it made on his hearing.

"Miss Granger, I know you're in shock, but before you start throwing a tantrum, would you so kindly read this?" The headmaster reached into his deep pockets and produced a yellowing envelope with a red wax seal. He handed it to her, glad that the spell was still on her, otherwise he would've been hounded by questions by now.

Hermione, reluctantly took the letter and snapped the seal open after seeing that it was addressed to her.

Her eyes widened comically and she could feel her hands going clammy.

Suddenly, she was glad that she _couldn't_ scream.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I'm not writing this fanfiction to make any money out of it. I disclaim any familiar characters and/or any plots you read that are associated with Harry Potter. All rights go to the amazingly talented author of the books- JK Rowling. Any original plots/ story lines are mine, and any new characters that we may stumble across that aren't mentioned in the book or in the movie are most likely my OC's. This is a work of fiction. If, in any way, it resembles your life or someone's you know, it is purely coincidental.**

Chapter 4: The First Sorting

Date: Monday, September 3rd, 1973

Time: 20:30

The travel sickness was soon forgotten about as the friendly company had managed to steer away all thoughts and feelings of uneasiness.

Once the train had stopped, the first years were separated from the rest, meaning the youngest Black was forced to say farewell to her new friend, and were taken to school by magical boats, enchanted to float along the lake.

Nevertheless, it was a beautiful sight. The moon shone down on them and the stars twinkled above. The lanterns of the boats reflected off the still lake, rippling as each boat cut slowly through its black waters. The school itself was a sight to behold. It was a large, medieval-like castle that reached about seven stories high, and was dotted with hundreds of glowing windows. Its magical aura wasn't hard to miss.

Accompanying Hermione were two other witches.

The one sitting on Hermione's right was a shy, Hufflepuff-worthy muggle-born. She had pale, shallow skin and clear, crystal-like eyes that glistened with unshed tears. Her blonde hair was tied into a messy bun with blonde ringlets shooting out into different directions. Poor girl was as pale as a ghost and shaking uncontrollably from nerves!

Her stark contrast sat in front of them- a confident, pure-blooded witch. The girl's family was of both Egyptian and English origin, spanning from hundreds and hundreds of years. Unlike the other girl, she held her composure confidently with her head held high. She also had chocolate brown eyes, rich, olive skin and straight, jet black hair.

However, despite their very different upbringings and lack of similarities, conversation between the three of them, somehow, wasn't at all as tense as she thought it would've been.

"The name's Astrid Neferet," the brunette introduced, hands out towards both girls in greeting.

"L-laverne Des-s-s-coteaux," the blonde sniffed, shakily taking Astrid's outstretched hand. Judging by her accent and surname, Hermione deduced she was French, or at least had a French father.

"Well, Laverne, I think we'll be very good friends," Astrid said happily, not once making fun of the girl's tears. "I've heard about Hogwarts from my brother. It's just simply wonderful! There's no need to be upset, we'll help you, won't we...?" she trailed off, looking pointedly at the other girl.

"Hermione Black," Hermione chipped in.

"Interesting name- Shakespeare, I believe- and a pure-blood- anyway, nice to meet you, Hermione," she said. "You'll help, right?" she then asked, bringing them back to the topic at hand.

Hermione gave a comforting smile to the witch beside her, opting not to hug her in case she jumped from shock. Probably not the best thing to do since they were currently sitting on a boat. "My brothers said that Hogwarts isn't at all scary- companies not bad either- nor the staff," she told.

Laverne sniffed quietly and dragged a sleeve-clad arm over her reddening eyes. "N-no, it's not that- I'm glad to have been accepted into Hogwarts- really I am! It's just Eva and James- my foster parents- I really miss them."

Astrid, not wanting the girl to break into tears, flung her arms around her tiny, shaking frame. "It won't be too long till Christmas. And until then, you've got us!"

Hermione shook her head fondly. She had only just met Astrid but she could tell she wasn't like the other pure-bloods. She was kind of like the Potters in a way. She was confident, yet sweet and loyal to everyone she knew- stranger or not.

"Oh! Look, we're here!" she squealed, peering behind Laverne's back. "Come on you two!" Astrid yanked both of them up onto their feet the minute the boat's side touched dry land. For someone so small, she had the strength of a fully grown man.

/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\

The three girls, and the rest of their class, were all huddled together and waiting.

After being rounded up by a huge half-giant and taken towards the Great Hall, the first years were met by Professor McGonagall, the school's deputy head teacher.

She was a stern, No Trouble woman, with a warm heart. At first glance, she was strict, but really she was like a lovable grandmother who loved to spoil her grandchildren and who cared greatly for her house's welfare.

Gryffindor were lucky to have her.

"Alrighty then. I will call you all up in alphabetical order," she said from memory. "You will then proceed towards the front of the Great Hall where you will sit on a stool and have the Sorting Hat placed on your head to sort you. Any questions?" When no one put up their hands (it was a pretty simple instruction to follow) she started the sorting.

"Abe, Jenna."

Jenna, a tall red-head, eagerly made her way to the stool.

A few seconds passed until the hat's booming voice shouted "RAVENCLAW!" causing a huge round of cheering.

"Abbott, John."

Feeling at soft tap at her elbow, Minerva McGonagall looked down to see a young witch.

"RAVENCLAW!" Another round of cheering.

"Barton, Ella."

"Sorry, Professor McGonagall, but I was just wondering if you- by any chance- not say the name written on the list, but a different one?" Hermione asked.

Minerva looked at the girl calculatingly before shaking her head sadly. "I'm sorry dear. Unless you have adult consent, I can't do anything about it."

"SLYTHERIN!" Roars of delight tore through the Hall's silence.

Then, regrettably on Hermione's behalf, "Black, Ursula."

Hermione groaned, trudging her way over to the stool.

The students (well, most of them) waited in anticipation, wondering where the youngest Black was to be placed. Tension between both Slytherin and Gryffindor tables arose, as each Black brother (and co.) glared at each other, hoping to win their sister's loyalties through house ties.

"Another Black, I see," the hat's echoing voice sounded in her head. "Ah, but not _only_ a Black, but also a Riddle. How… _pleasant_."

'_I aim to please_,' she remarked. '_Please don't tell anyone_.'

"What takes place between us, stays between us."

A relieved '_Thank you'_ passed through her thoughts.

"Now, where to put you...?" he contemplated. "Brains and Knowledge is definitely your strong point, yet… you don't belong there. Hufflepuff would welcome you with open arm, but I have a feeling you just aren't right for it… I could always put you in Slytherin- as family is _so_ _very_ _important_ to you," he teased.

Hermione couldn't help but think of her mother and the superior and prejudice thoughts she had drilled into her head at such a tender and young age. But she was so much like Sirius (attitude wise) that it didn't matter, she hated to admit. She never believed in blood-status like her parents.

"Ah, I see. A female version of Mr Black then. Your loyalties definitely do not lie with those cunning folk. So, the only house suitable for you is most definitely… GRYFFINDOR!"

Getting off the stool and rushing towards Sirius' side, she scanned the room quickly to catch a glimpse of a certain Slytherin.

The look Regulus gave her chilled her to the bone and broke her heart.

/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\

Loud, ear-splitting cheers could be heard coming from said house, whilst Slytherins looked on with unhidden shock.

They were so certain Hermione would be in _their_ house.

Regulus Black rarely felt- no _experienced_- anger.

Not when his mother had killed his pet owl in cold-blood when it returned a letter late.

Not when his potions partner burned his skin raw with a faulty potion by 'accident'.

Not even when his brother told him he was a disgrace for wanting to associate with the superior pure-blooded, green, Slytherin idiots.

He felt betrayed.

His only sister, the only one in his family he actually trusted, had betrayed him. Left him for their elder brother.

He saw red.

Red.

But not at Hermione.

No.

At his blood traitor of a brother, Sirius.

And he was not giving up his sister without a fight.

/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\

Ten agonising minutes passed before Laverne was finally called up and Hermione, throwing the thought of her brother out of her head, sat at the edge of her seat in anticipation.

Lavern Descoteaux, the French, Hufflepuff-worthy, shy girl she had befriended on that small boat just half an hour ago, looked terrified and as pale as Nearly-Headless Nick.

Hermione just wanted to run up and hug her but Sirius, noticing her abrupt movement, stopped her before she could, though, so instead she sent her a huge smile and thumbs up.

The hat sat atop her head for the span of five seconds before yelling: "GRYFFINDOR!"

Well. That was unexpected.

Hermione, still questioning the hat's choice, stood up anyway and roared in happiness like a true lioness at the top of her voice. Laverne sat beside Hermione and hugged her tightly, squeezing the shaking girl with strength she didn't know she possessed.

Very soon after, "Neferet, Astrid", was called up.

Astrid bounced into the Great Hall and sat down on the stool enthusiastically. Her bright, toothy smile stayed put, even as the Sorting hat slid over her eyes, obscuring her view.

"SLY-", came out of its mouth but stopped before it could finish.

Gasps filled the Great Hall and students and teachers alike were wondering what caused the hat's abrupt stop.

Astrid looked tense as she had a mental debate with the magical hat.

/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\

"SLY-"

'_No! Don't put me there! I can't! I won't!'_

"But, Miss Neferet-"

'_You know I can't. You've read my mind. I'm not like my parents- I'm not,' _she persisted, stubbornly.

The sorting hat stayed silent as he went over her statement. She wasn't like the her of her family, it was true. She had befriended a muggle-born and a blood-traitor, so no not like her family in that sense. But she still held all Slytherin qualities- the cunningness and resourcefulness and ambition she possessed was outstanding for someone so young!

"Ravenclaw, then? Your ambition can be very useful in that house also," he suggested.

She shook her head grinning, knowing exactly where she wanted to be placed. Hoping her parents would be even more dissatisfied with their children, she asked 'How about…'

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\

Not expecting little Miss Neferet to be in that house, were you?

Yeah, me neither. Originally she was meant for Gryffindor, but where's the fun in that? Plus, I haven't read enough fanfics with a Slytherin-worthy, blood-traitor, pure-blooded Hufflepuff, so I thought 'What the heck?' Also, Astrid, although she's just an OC, she has her own story to tell, so that's _another_ reason why she wanted Hufflepuff house and not Slytherin.

Oh and I apologise. I know it's not very realistic, but I tried to base Astrid, Laverne and Hermione's first meeting on what I was like when I was a child. I found it was easier to make friends when I was younger compared to now because, to be honest, before I started secondary school and all the crap that comes along with it, I found it was easier to make friends then than it is now. I don't know why- the awkwardness of the infamous First Greeting perhaps? Or maybe it's the fact that most children are quite naïve at that age. I don't know. But that's how I think it would've gone if it were ever to take place. Which is unlikely.

Okay, so I've been working on this for literally hours and it's now 4am in the morning, I haven't had a wink of sleep, I have guests coming… today, and I can hear birds chirping.

See, never ever listen to music on the computer while you write, because it just gets you distracted and you end up on youtube for hours on end watching all sorts of videos and music videos and vlogs and stuff when you should probably be doing something else more cooperative and fun and revising or some crap and… word vomit done. Lesson learned.

Anyway, this chapter should be posted around sometime this afternoon since that's probably the time I'll wake up, so I hope to get some reviews since I've been going through all this 'pain' for you.

And this Author's note just got way to long, my head is aching and my eyes are stinging as I try to keep them open just to write these last words. Hopefully it'll be up before eight pm. Hopefully.

-Ebony'Wingz


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